XIII. Sugar Honey Iced Tea

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Savannah and Melaina's friendship slowly progressed back to the level of school friends. They kept their topics light and Savannah didn't push. It was Friday night, and Mel and Sav had made plans to walk around the shopping plaza and then see a movie after dinner. Mel left her house early, so she waited for her friend outside of the plaza entrance.

­­"Hey, sugar."

Dozens of times throughout the years, Melaina quenched his advances, but Simon Jackson was as determined as he was sleazy.

She nodded to acknowledge him, but kept her eyes in search of a familiar Dodge Avenger.

Simon stood from the rusting bench and offered her the lit cigarette in his hand. "Want a hit?"

"No, thanks. I don't smoke."

Simon shrugged and took another puff. Then he swirled the cigarette between his fingers like a schoolboy with a pencil in class. He blew the sickly smell in the air in front of her face. She waved the smoke away as her eyes and nose burned. "Simon."

"Say my name again." He stepped closer. Mel leaned away, disgusted.

"No." She wished with all her heart that Sav would hurry up.

As if Sav was on the same wavelength, Mel's phone buzzed. Hiya. My mom was called in to work. There was a three-car crash, and they needed extra hands. Raincheck?

Mel groaned under her breath. Okay. See you tomorrow. Her brunette locks fluttered in the wind. The weatherman had predicted a snowstorm later that day, and it looked like he would be right for once.

"You smell good," Simon commented. "Like vanilla."

"Mm." Mel was trying to think of an escape plan.

"We should get a drink," Simon suggested with a glint in his eyes. Those blue eyes grazed across her body appreciatively. Uncomfortable, Mel tugged her peacoat so the front closed over her dress.

"I don't drink and I'm underage."

"You should live a little, sugar. I have some ideas."

Mel resisted the urge to gag. "No, thank you. I have to get going. I'm meeting a friend."

She tried to pass him, but Simon stuck his arm out to stop her. Mel recoiled. "Don't touch me."

"You need to learn to play nice, little Mellie."

Mel reached for her phone, then paused. Who would she call, anyways?

She startled when a hand briefly touched her shoulder from behind. "Is there a problem here?" a soft Southern voice asked.

"Mind your business, kid," Simon sneered. That was laughable; Jasper Hale could hardly be considered a kid.

The newcomer turned his dark gold eyes on Mel. "Melaina?" he prompted.

Worry filled Mel's insides like rainwater in a Pennsylvania pothole. She bit her lip.

"I'm okay, Jasper," she lied. She tried to reassure him of her words with her eyes, but she could tell by his frown that he wasn't convinced.

"Be on your way now." Simon made a shooing motion with the hand holding his cigarette. Jasper turned his steely gaze on Simon.

Mel didn't want him to pick a fight; she knew that Simon had a concealed carry and was crazy enough to use it. She started to speak, but a tinkling voice interrupted.

"There you are, Mel!" Alice linked her small arm through Mel's. "We're going to be late for our movie. Come on."

Mel could only stare at Alice as she was dragged away from Simon's infuriated gaze. Jasper followed only steps behind. "I'm confused," Mel finally admitted. Alice ushered the girl into a silver Volvo parked by the curb.

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